That's Not Mayonnaise You're Eating
by Ollec
Summary: This story is pointless, so don't look for one.
1. What?

_**That's Not Mayonnaise You're Eating…**_

_Chapter 1: What?_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter._

The summer had come to an end. Harry Potter, the boy who lived, watched as Dudley was eating a chocolate Popsicle. Harry asked for one, but the Dursleys gave him a sheep's eye instead. Where the Dursleys got a sheep's eye from, he had no idea, but it was kinda squishy and fun too squeeze, so he kept quiet. As the car came to a sudden stop at King Cross Station, Dudley and Harry were jerked forward resulting in Dudley getting his Popsicle wedged deep inside his nose. Harry, being the smart one he was, managed to keep his sheep's eye away from his nose. Climbing out of the car, Harry turned to wave good-bye, but no one noticed because they were frantically freaking out about Dudley's nose.

As he got on the train, he tripped and ended up falling face first into the bosom of some unknown girl. However, she wasn't important, so we don't really know what happened next, but it resulted in Harry having a black eye in the next scene. Harry lumbered to a nearby compartment, finding it was… "occupied". Shutting the door, he made his way to another compartment. This one was empty. Harry skipped into it, sat across from his trunk, propped his legs up, and happily squeezed his sheep's eye.

"Harry!" he heard a familiar voice say. Harry looked up to see Ron, followed by another girl. This girl had dark brown, straight hair and brown eyes. She had a blue camisole and a yellow miniskirt on and was at least a DD cup.

"Hermione! Wow…what did you do?" The girl walked on by and Hermione stepped into the compartment behind her, looking as she always had.

"What are you talking about Harry?" she asked, looking puzzled.

"Oh…er…the contacts…they are new, aren't they?" Harry tried to cover up.

"Oh yes. I'm glad you guys noticed. Well…what do you think?" Hermione responded, looking absolutely chipper.

"You look great. Right-o," Ron chipped in.

"I never had glasses you idiot." Hermione muttered, "Honestly…do you guys even know that I'm a girl?"

Harry and Ron spent the next few moments taking a prolonged and obvious look at Hermione's chest. Hermione sat there attempting not to feel awkward at the present situation. After a few moments, Harry and Ron retreated into a huddle, glancing back at Hermione every once in a while. After about 5 minutes, they broke their huddle and headed back toward Hermione.

"Given the current circumstances, we have concluded that there is a possibility that you could be female. However, this is still up in the air." Harry stated. Ron stood behind him and nodded.

Hermione just sighed.

The feast passed as it usually did. Very feasty-like. Hermione, though only nibbling at her food, didn't talk much. Ron was busy stuffing his face with anything within reach and Harry was having a lively conversation with Nearly-Headless Nick about his upcoming deathday party. Hermione was busy glancing around at the other girls, becoming more and more depressed as she saw more and more first year girls who were more well-endowed than she was. The random chattering came to an end as Dumbledore took the stand, signaling he was ready to make his start-of-the-year-speech.

"As you all know, the Dark Forest, which borders the grounds, is strictly forbidden to all students," he started, knowing that this was the part that no one would really listen to anyway, "Also, please note that this year, like always, we have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor." With that, Dumbledore stepped down and a man no one had ever noticed before rose from the table.

"Thank you Professor Dumbledore," said the man, bowing slightly. He turned back toward the students. "My name is unimportant. From the history of this school, it seems highly likely that I will be used, abused, or turned insane by the end of the school year. Either that or I'm evil to start with. Therefore, I don't feel the need for any emotional attachment. That, and I'm allergic to emotions."

The room was quiet. Everyone was staring at the man with looks that said that they were thoroughly creeped-out.

"I'M A GIRL, DAMMIT!" Hermione screamed jumping to her feet. The hall of students more or less ignored her, not really caring, because everyone knew that someone as smart as Hermione was bound to crack someday.

"Well then," Dumbledore regained his spot at the stand, "off to bed you are." The food in front of the students disappeared. The students shuffled out of the Great Hall and on toward their dormitories, tired from the day's journey and wishing sleep.

But first, they had to party. Butterbeer was passed around, most of it ending up on the floor. People were eating candy and chocolates every which way you looked. Hermione didn't bother partying with everyone else. She was too distraught over what happened today that she just wanted to be alone. She made her way up into her room and collapsed on the bed, letting the night encompass her.

_"Hermione…," she heard someone call. She opened her eyes. She didn't really know where she was, except that she was submerged in water. She looked around until she saw a shadowy figure._

_"Who are you?" she called out. The shadowy figure stepped toward her, into the light. Hermione had to keep herself from screaming. The man, if she could call it that, looked like his face had melted. He had webbed hands and feet._

_"Are you a merman?" she asked._

_"Nope," came the reply._

_"Well?" she waited impatiently._

_"Well what?"_

_"Aren't you here to tell me something important?"_

_"Not really."_

_"Then why are you here?"_

_"Don't ask me, it's your dream."_

_"Are you sure this isn't a vision?"_

_"When you're having a vision, don't you NOT have control over what you say?"_

_"Oh…right. By the way, that's improper English."_

_"What?"_

_"You used a double negative."_

_"So?"_

_"It's bad grammar."_

_"And?"_

_"Don't do it."_

_"Why not?"_

_"Cause I don't like it and it's my dream and I said so."_

_"Um…right. Just because it's your dream doesn't mean that you control me."_

_"Didn't you just say that I had control and that's why this isn't a vision?"_

_"I said you had control over what you say."_

_"Ah. Oh, I've been meaning to ask, and I don't mean to sound rude, but what happened to your face?"_

_"Potions accident."_

_"Who caused it?"_

_"Neville Longbottom."_

_"Neville?! _The_ Neville?"_

_"I believe so. The boy who's always tripping over himself and forgetting things…"_

_"That's Neville."_

_"Yes."_

_"Are you in our class?"_

_"No."_

_"Why are you in my dream?"_

_"I don't know."_

_"Shouldn't you know?"_

_"I don't see why I should."_

_"Because you're the one that's here."_

_"Well I don't. By the way, you should put some clothes on."_

_"I'm naked?!" Hermione looked down to see herself in the nude._

_"So it would seem."_

_"And you didn't tell me all this time?!"_

_"I was enjoying the view."_

_"Pervert."_

_"Yeah…so?"_

_"Oh well. It's just a dream, right?"_

_"I guess."_

_"Do I know you from somewhere?"_

_"If you didn't would you dream about me?"_

_"Possibly."_

_"Do you know how dreams work?"_

_"No."_

_"You know that you forget most dreams when you wake up, don't you?"_

_"Yes, and?"_

_"You're probably not going to remember this."_

_"That'll suck."_

_"For you. But I'll remember every second of it."_

_"That's discomforting."_

_"Once again. For you."_

_"Who are you? Do you go to Hogwarts?"_

_"I'm not telling."_

_"To which question?"_

_"Both."_

_"Is there actually a point to this conversation?"_

_"Not really."_

_"Are you sure you don't want to tell me anything?"_

_"Such as?"_

_"Something to do with Voldemort maybe?"_

_"GASP You said his name!"_

_"And?"_

_"Nothing. I just figured that's the reaction you wanted."_

_"You're weird."_

_"Pretty much."_

_"Your face is unmelting."_

_"Really?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Cool."_

Hermione awoke from the dream, sweating. That was the weirdest dream she had ever had. But for the life of her, she couldn't remember what exactly it was about.

A/N: I wasn't kidding when I said this story was pointless. I really don't know why I'm writing it. O well…give me feedback because I'm curious about what kind of reaction wasting 5 minutes of your life will get me.

Ollec, the Fish Slayer


	2. Moosi

_**That's Not Mayonnaise You're Eating…**_

_Chapter 2: Moosi_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Disney or much of anything…_

Hermione awoke from her dream to see the face of Ron Weasley.

"Ron?" she asked feebly, still recovering from the trauma she couldn't remember.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you in the girl's dormitory?"

"Uh….panties?"

"Ok," she muttered falling back asleep.

Hermione awoke the next day to a bright and happy sun-shiny day. The birds were chirping, the organ was grinding, and there were bubbles coming from the common room.

"Bubbles?" Hermione thought out loud as she changed into her day-clothes. Curiously, yet cautiously, she made her way downstairs. She was greeted with Harry and Seamus dancing to _Under the Sea_ from _The Little Mermaid_.

"Hey Hermione," Harry called out, "Join us!" Hermione couldn't say no to that. Especially since she had peaceful, dreamless night.

As the three danced to various Disney songs, people began to gather around them, watching them dance on this lovely Saturday morning. People started to whistle and join in, just for the hell of it, even if they didn't know what they were dancing to…or why, for that matter. Before they knew it, the whole Gryffindor tower was wide awake, dancing wildly, in all aspects of the word, to Disney music.

Breakfast was delightful. It was obvious that everyone was glad to be back to the place they felt was a second home. However, there was one major disruption. A herd of wild moose seemed to have wandered into the castle and were wreaking havoc everywhere.

"Moose is a fun word." Harry quipped.

"What's the plural of moose?" Ron asked candidly.

"Mooses?" Dean offered.

"Moosi?" Fred jumped in.

"Meese?" George tried.

"No…" Hermione answered, "it's just 'moose'."

"Yes," Seamus admitted, "but what's the plural?"

"Moose." Hermione said again.

"All right! We know there's a moose in here," Lavender barged in, "but we want to know what the plural of 'moose' is."

"Moose."

"Arg! I give up." Ron yelled and got up to leave. Everyone seemed to agree with this and rose to their feet too. Hermione just sat there looked annoyed because no one knew that "moose" was singular and plural.

Just as the Gryffindors stepped away from the table, Snape rushed into the room. The majority of the school was in there eating breakfast, but everyone was silenced instantly by the sight of an unruly Snape. That usually meant that something bad happened.

"The moose!" he exclaimed, "They got into my cabinets."

"Calm down Severus," Dumbledore said calmly, "what seems to be the problem."

"9873460987237196587612987561298756 points from Gryffindor!"

"Um…Severus…the problem?"

"Oh…right…The moose!" he cried out again, unable to find words.

And as luck would have it, a moose barged into the great hall. Except it wasn't a moose. It was a…thing. Nothing else could've described it. It was white, had black spots, and this thing on it's underside that looked like one of those surgeon gloves.

"OH MY GOD!" a Ravenclaw screamed, "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!?!"

Panic erupted throughout the Great Hall. The thing stared at everyone with these beady little eyes. It made this weird noise that no one ever heard of. It resembled the sound an old fat guy who's sitting in a chair makes when he falls off and groans in pain. Within seconds, the Great Hall was empty and the strange thing walked over to the Hufflepuff table and began chewing away at it.

"What was that thing?"

Ron was the first to speak up after everyone had made it back to the tower. Everyone else kinda just sat there, teetering back and forth in horror, except for Harry, of course. He was standing near the entrance to the common room striking a pose that said _"I'm a hero and these are the kinds of things I deal with, so I shall go out to the castle, engage into a heated battle with the monstrous being and bring it to shame. I will conquer it so that Hogwarts will once again be free! Free from the evils that taint its walls, its students, AND its moose (and yes…'moose' in the plural sense). However, I shall be thwarted in my plans until the very end, for I am but a student and though there are many others who are much more educated and knowlegeful than me, I am insanely lucky and brave."_

After the Gryffindor crowd stared at him for about five minutes, Harry was satisfied and left. As he skipped merrily down the hall, squeezing his sheep's eye, of course, he ran into the last person he expected to ever run into at Hogwarts.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"No one."

"'K, bye!"

"Toodles."

Yes. It was someone Harry had never seen before. For that reason, it's obvious that he never expected to run into that person at Hogwarts. Life is logical in that aspect.

So after traversing the hallways for about seven and a half hours, Harry finally found the monster. It was gruesome. Rated R. But Harry knew just how to beat it. Harry knew the one way that he could get it out of the castle forever. Feeling superior, he walked up to the monstrosity.

"Ha!" he said

"Moo," it replied.

"Just 'cause I'm the enemy doesn't mean you have to insult me like that!"

"Moo," it replied.

"OH MY GAWD! I can't believe you just said that!"

"Moo," it replied.

"ARRRGGG! I hate you! I hate you!"

With that, Harry fell to the floor and began to throw a tantrum. He threw it until it broke through the nearby window, falling 7326159489324155965659764866496439180729856661256862112375698712937596123496514236549267017394171539674912578615609802608203867187716987561987260804367238745601765078612487561904750671624087568732468957629837465786106435 stories to its untimely death. Harry turned his attention back to the evil thing that tainted the walls of Hogwarts.

"I challenge you to a game of strip poker!," he declared, "The loser leaves Hogwarts forever."

"Moo," it replied.

So Harry pulled out a deck of cards and began to shuffle. However, the creature had no clothes on, so it lost by default and was forced to leave the castle by the randomly placed magical binding contract on the two of them.

For some reason not yet known to mankind, which includes the wizarding kind, in case you were wondering, all of the moose in the castle followed the weird mutant out. It was as if they were placed on an Imperius curse and were forced to obey the black-spotted thing.

Harry pranced back toward the common room when he ran into the last person he wanted to run into (see, this time, Harry knew who it was, so it would be expected, but it wasn't expected, but it was plausible). Severus Snape looked down his long crooked at young Harry Potter.

"Hi!", Harry smiled, obviously in a chipper mood.

"Hello!" Snape responded just as happily.

"What brings you to these parts of London?"

"Just a working a bit."

"Oh, how nice."

"Isn't it?"

"'Tis."

"Well, tra-la-la then."

"Toodles dude."

So Harry made his way back to the Gryffindor common room. When he entered it was pitch black and everything was quiet. He reached to flick on the light switch, expecting to see everyone jump out and yell "SURPRISE" because he had just bested a monstrosity no one else would have even dreamed of. But instead, he tripped over his own feet and fell face first into the ground. Getting up, he flipped the switch and was greeted with the "SURPRISE" that he had expected. I mean…what good is Gryffindor if they don't throw a party for every little whim of a thing that the Great Lord Harry Potter did?

Well, at about the time that Harry was thrown his party, the Slytherins all woke up. They knew something was up. For some reason, they all felt stupider, except for Draco Malfoy, of course. A boy with looks as good as his isn't affected by the Great Lord Harry Potter. Instead, he just rolled over and went back to sleep.

The next morning, Draco woke up. He didn't feel too good. Then, he went to breakfast. There, he ate food. Mmmmhmmmhmmm, food. Then he felt better. Yay for food. Right…enough about Draco. Back to Hermione.

Hermione yelled at Harry. Of course, this was for no good reason, whatsoever. Harry, who had just had the best night of his life, at least in this school year, so far, had done nothing wrong. In fact, he had saved the school once again! He wouldn't stop bragging about it. Every time anyone tried to talk to Harry it was "monster-thing this" or "evil herd of moose" that. Maybe that's why Hermione was yelling at him. The world may never know.

At precisely that time, although when "that time" was, no one really knows, Dean tripped down the stairs, his arms flailing, with a Tootsie Roll Pop in his mouth.

"Hey Harry…?" Dean mumbled.

"Yeah?"

"That hurt."

"Duh?"

"Right."

Once again, Dean was pushed aside like a rag doll because he wasn't one of the important characters. Completely ignoring everyone other than Ron and Harry, Hermione took them both by the arms and dragged them behind her to breakfast.

At breakfast, the trio runs into none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Hello, Potter." Draco spat.

"Why, hi!" Hermione piped up.

"Are you Potter?"

"No."

"Then don't respond when I'm talking to Potter."

"But…"

"Shut up, you stupid Mudblood."

"Did you just call me what I think you called me?!" Hermione's temper began to rise.

"It's what you are, isn't it?"

"Can't you just treat me like a regular person?"

"But you're not human, you're a Mudblood."

That was the straw that broke Hermione's back. Well, not literally. It's a figure of speech. Anyway, Hermione, not caring about the figure of speech, punched Draco in the face before he could do anything. He tumbled backwards, attempting not to fall, but failed miserably and landed in a pile of Mrs. Norris' cat poop.

As it turns out, Hermione was really a jiu-jitsu master. Before Harry and Ron could blink, she had pulled a gazillion moves on Draco, breaking his spleen. Hermione turned to the two boys.

"Let's go." she chirped.

"Aren't you going to finish him off, Hermione?" Ron asked sounding disappointed.

"No," she declared, "martial arts are only for self-defense."

A/N: Wow…I got good reviews. Well…mostly good reviews. That beats my expectations (which was 0, in case you were wondering). Thanks a bunch guys. Hope you liked this one as much as I enjoyed writing it.


	3. Cheesecake

_**That's Not Mayonnaise You're Eating…**_

_Chapter 3: Cheesecake_

_Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Harry Potter and, therefore, will not see a profit from the sale of its merchandise._

The next day, nothing interesting happened. In fact, if given the option, Hermione would choose not to live it. But she wasn't given a choice so she lived it anyway. However, due to the fact that nothing happened, well…nothing worth mentioning anyway, I'm not going to dwell on the subject any longer.

The next day, Hermione woke without a start. She got out of bed, took a shower, brushed her teeth, did all those girly-morning things that girls do in the morning and was then, only then, rewarded with her first concrete thought of the day. She felt so strongly about the matter of this thought that she decided, subconsciously, of course, to voice it, though there was no one around to hear it.

"Yesterday," she stifled a yawn, "was one hell of a useless day." With that, Hermione felt much better and skipped off to breakfast, now fully awake.

Hermione arrived at the Great Hall to find many-a-students rioting. However, because she was in a chipper mood, she didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. But because this is a fanfiction, to keep all you readers entertained, SOMETHING has to happen. So as Hermione, in her horribly chipper mood, reached for her glass of pumpkin juice, she wondered if there was ever anything else to drink. The only drinks she's been exposed to, in the wizarding world, have been pumpkin juice, Butterbeer, and some old dude's Fire Whiskey. I mean, don't these people even drink water?!

These thoughts went through Hermione's head up until she actually touched the glass of pumpkin juice. When she wrapped her small and delicate fingers around the glass she was overcome by an overwhelming desire to quench her thirst. Her mouth began to water, which is, of course, a figure of speech, because her mouth emitted saliva, which combines water with other elements and such, or some sort of thing that Hermione would know about because she is both smart and the daughter of two dentists.

This overwhelming desire to quench her thirst was interrupted, as most things in this fanfiction usually are, just as the rim of the glass touched her bottom lip. However, unlike most things in this fanfiction, it was interrupted by a pie. Truth be told, it was a lemon pie.

It was a very noticeable lemon pie, especially for Hermione. Although sometimes, when something is right in front of your eyes, you tend not to notice it, when something is IN your eye, you tend to freak out. So Hermione did just that.

Getting up, screaming, and running all over the place, waving her arms around, of course, Hermione managed to bring a stop to the rioting by bumping into everyone and anyone.

"That's our Hermione for you," Professor McGonagall mused to no one in particular. "She's prefect material, that girl is!"

Malfoy, who was still miffed that the muggle-born witch kicked his sorry ass a couple of days back, dumped a giant vat of water on Hermione. Why? To tell you the truth, I don't really know. Nevertheless, the water washed away the lemon pie out of Hermione's eyes.

For a second, Hermione was grateful. Then, she remembered she was wearing a white shirt. She looked down to see her shirt sticking to her body and her red bra shining through it.

Right about here would be a really good spot for a plot twist. A really, really, REALLY good spot. However, because this story has no plot, there is no way it can have a plot twist. Hell, I'm just happy that this story good grammar has. Anyway….back to the story.

Everyone was staring at Hermione. No one had really noticed before that she had gorgeous curves under her robes. And now that her hair was wet and not frizzy, she was what the boys would call a "looker". Obviously, being as smart as she is, Hermione used advanced calculus, physics, and a bit of art history to do a quick calculation in her head, resulting in the realization that everyone was staring at her.

Malfoy's jaw fell to the floor. He picked it up and put it back on his face. He never knew that THIS is what a mudblood could look like. He'd always imagined they looked hideous, but this creature before him, this…this…goddess, was anything but that. Maybe…just maybe…his father was wrong. Malfoy was in love.

About then, Hermione decided that standing around in a wet t-shirt, displaying her bra, wasn't such a good idea. Her face turned redder than her lingerie and she ran out of the Great Hall as fast as she could.

After changing into a dry shirt and drying her hair, until it was dry, with a dry towel, Hermione hoped the day would remain dry and sunny. Suddenly, she wanted cheesecake.

Hermione didn't know why she wanted cheesecake, for she was never one whose sweet tooth commanded her every whim. That would be Ron, who, unbeknownst to Hermione was purchasing a full set of photos, of Hermione's theatrics this morning, from Colin Creevy, who was selling them at a galleon each or 10 galleons for a full set, which consisted of 12 photos. Ron, whose family, according to Malfoy, was rich challenged, had spent the better part of his life savings to purchase these photos. It would later be rumored that it was that point in time when Colin would find that his negatives of these pictures vanished and all copies owned by anyone had disappeared. Although everyone suspected Ron was the culprit behind this, all evidence brought forth to prove his guilt turned out to be circumstantial. However, students, particularly Gryffindor students, claim to hear odd noises coming from Ron's poster bed at late hours on Friday and Saturday nights.

Well, regardless of whatever the hell Ron was up to, Hermione still wanted cheesecake. She found that she had left Gryffindor tower. As she rounded the corner she didn't see cheesecake. Instead, she saw Harry.

"Hi!" she exclaimed, in a not-so-chipper-but-not-depressed-although-somewhat-slightly-embarassassed-for-practically-flashing-the-whole-school kind of voice.

"Yo." said Harry, in a I'm-so-cool-because-I-defeat-beasts-that-are-unknown-to-human-kind-and-you-shouldn't-pity-me-for-the-things-that-Voldemort-has-done-to-ruin-my-life tone.

"You're not cheesecake…." Hermione muttered.

"Weren't classes supposed to start like 2 days ago?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't they?"

"I dunno. Did you ask Dumbledore?"

"Not yet."

"Shouldn't you?"

"And spoil all this fun?"

"Homework IS fun."

"But it's not cheesecake." Harry pointed out.

"True."

As it turns out, Malfoy had been listening to this whole conversation from around the corner. This was not the same corner as the one Hermione turned directly before she saw Harry, but another one a couple of meters away. If you're worried that Malfoy misheard something or something to that extent, you need not worry yourself, for Hogwarts is a castle with good acoustics.

Now…you have to understand, though I'm sure you already do, that Draco Malfoy's initials are DM. If his prefix happened to be Robitussin, he'd be the cough syrup that cures congested chests. But I very much doubt that his father would give him such an un-vile-sounding prefix. Regardless of all that, Draco was a spoilt brat who was used to getting everything he wanted. Right now, he wanted Hermione Granger. And right now, Hermione didn't want anything to do with Draco Malfoy.

Hermione and Harry made their way to the kitchens in search of some cheesecake.

"Hi Dobby." Harry said.

"What is Dobby owning this pleasure to, Harry Potter, sir?" Dobby squealed in his house-elfy voice.

"Um…nothing really."

"I want cheesecake!" Hermione announced, sounding very much like a 4-year-old.

"We is not having any, miss."

"Could you make some for me?" Hermione pleaded, her eyes as big as saucers, adding to her femininity.

"No." Dobby said, sounding very, very, VERY serious. So serious, in fact, that Hermione was taken aback by it.

"But…why?" she asked.

"Let me give it to you straight." Dobby said, propping an arm up on the table between them. "Ma homies don't be wanting none of your S.P.E.W. crap that you've been dishing out." Harry and Hermione's jaws dropped. Dobby was gangsta! Who would've thunk? As they closed their gaping mouths, Dobby continued. "I'm free 'cause I wanted to be free, but you don't see me pushing my peeps to be doing things they don't wanna."

"But…"

"The hell with you. You ain't getting nothing from us." Dobby growled as he shoved them out of the kitchens. He turned to Harry before turning to go. "Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby is not be wishing you to see that, sir." he bowed, resuming his house-elfy voice, as he left.

"Well," Harry said getting up and dusting himself off, "that was odd."

"I want cheesecake…" Hermione pouted.

Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy was owling commands to anyone and everyone of power. Before long, he had complete control over a small army of highly trained agents. Though he managed to keep his motives a secret, he could never truly know if the agents knew what he was really after. However, being highly trained agents, they held everything with utmost confidentiality and were immune to most common forms of torture and even some unusual ones. Basically, Draco's secret would be kept within boundaries.

"Boys!" Draco hollered. "Today we being our journey. Today, we will become men!" A loud cheer filled the room. The agents looked pleased with themselves and felt more accomplished. The merry-making was cut short by a loud "THWACK" that resonated through the room. It became silent instantly. The agents looked toward Draco with a mix of astonishment and fear. And no one, and I mean NO ONE, not even your great-great-great-grandma twice removed, was more amused than Draco was. The "THWACK" had come from the act of Draco's leg being slapped by a little girl who looked to be seven-years-old.

"Who's the squirt?" Draco asked his informant, who stood by his side.

"That happens to be General Lieutenant Colonel Captain Flimmans. Her first name is Tina." the informant quipped.

"Well…I don't care what rank she holds." Draco turned to Tina. "Listen, missy, I give the orders around here."

Apparently, this wasn't the right thing to say because in the blink of an eye, Draco found himself pinned to the ground with the seven-year-old sitting on his chest. He also found himself staring into the barrel of a .38 caliber pistol, which Tina was aiming, menacingly, directly between his eyes.

"You'd do well to know your place." She said in a calm, cool voice. "I may take orders from you, but I expect to be regarded with the respect I deserve." It was then that Draco learned an important life lesson: Little kids are scary, especially little girls.

Flimmans leaped to her feet and frolicked back over to the agents, taking her place.

"Why'd I get slapped?" Draco asked her, the terror in his face, now clearly visible.

"THAT was for being a chauvinist pig and not including girls or women in that pitiful speech of yours!" she screamed.

"Sorry, ma'am." Draco answered wisely.

Truly fearing the little girl and the want of accomplishing his goal in mind, Draco quickly set forth this legion of agents to find some cheesecake.

As Harry and Hermione were passing by the library, on their way back to Gryffindor tower, from the kitchens, they bumped into Ron.

"Ron!" Hermione smiled. "Where've you been? I don't see you around much anymore."

"I need some of your hair." Ron said matter-of-factly.

"My hair?"

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Well….um…."

"Is it for –" Hermione started.

"NO!" Ron screamed, a look of horror spread across his face. "It is absolutely NOT for a Polyjuice Potion that I'm NOT making!"

"I see…" Harry muttered.

Ron, who felt very uncomfortable now, reached out, grabbed a single strand of Hermione's hair and plucked it from her head, much like you'd pluck the feathers off of a duck, which, by the way, I have never done and never plan on doing – for the record. He then happily hurried into the library to NOT research Polyjuice Potions.

"Is that legal?" Harry asked.

"I dunno." Hermione responded.

"Maybe I should get some of Ginny's hair…." Harry pondered aloud.

"—KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH—"

"TONY?! TONY?! DAMN," Draco wiped the sweat off his brow, "we lost another one."

"—KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH— Sir, we have located a restaurant in America called The Cheesecake Factory. —KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH—" another walkie-talkie rang.

"Excelent! All units to this location. Secure the perimeter." Draco ordered into another walkie-talkie.

A few seconds passed before the reply came. "—KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH— Perimeter is secure, sir. All are accounted for, sir. —KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH—"

"Move in."

"—KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH— Yes sir. —KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH—"

Bob lived a happy life. He had two children and a beautiful wife. They lived in a nice, quiet neighborhood in a cozy split-level house. Recently, they had bought a 48-inch flat-screen TV to commemorate Bob's promotion to District Manager. Being a District Manager wasn't too hard of a job. He was in charge of three of the stores of the franchise he worked for, all residing in the same general area. All he had to do was make sure the other employees were doing their jobs and to make sure nothing major happened to any of the stores. Oh...and there was a bit of paperwork and stuff too.

This particular afternoon, something major was happening.

"Sir, it seems we have been surrounded, sir." an employee reported, bursting into his office at 1400 hours.

"Who are they?" Bob asked.

"The recon unit reported that they are all wearing black suits and sunglasses, sir. This could mean trouble for us, sir."

"Lockdown procedures immediately."

"Yes sir."

Bob reached under his desk and hit the big red button that was to be used only in the case of an emergency.

"—KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH— Sir, they have the place on lockdown, sir. —KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH—"

"What?!"

"—KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH— Metal blinds have covered all the doors and windows, sir. —KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH—"

"No one got through?"

"—KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH— It seems that General Lieutenant Colonel Captain Flimmans was the only one to bypass the security, sir. She is on the interior, sir. —KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH—"

"Keep the perimeter secure and stqand-by for further orders." Draco spoke into the walkie-talkie.

"—KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH— Yes, sir. —KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH—"

Draco threw aside the walkie-talkie.

"Do we have the blueprints of the building yet?" he asked, taking a sip of water, leaning over one of the chairs in the control room.

"Yes sir." responded the man in the chair, pulling the blueprints up on the screen. A single flashing red dot stood in an area marked 'Customer Area'.

"Good." Draco said to the man. He donned a headset and spoke into it. "General Lieutenant Colonel Captain Flimmans, do you read me?"

"Yes sir, I hear you loud and clear."

"Permission to call you Flimmans or Tina, miss."

"Flimmans will do, sir."

"We have a track on you Flimmans. You should be in the 'Customer Area', the first room directly through the front entrance, am I correct?"

"Yes sir."

"What do you see?"

"There are twenty people. Five families. They look somewhat panicked, but seem to be too scared to move. These could be potential hostages, sir."

"Can you get to the Ladies' restroom? There should be a vent you can take from there."

"Roger that."

An alarm went off in Bob's office, accompanied by a flashing red light.

"It seems we have a rat problem Lieutenant…." Bob mused. "It turns out that our security has been breached."

"All opposing agents are still outside, sir."

"Could it be one of the customers trying to escape?"

"All customers are accounted for too, sir."

"Then you must've missed one."

"What should we do sir?"

"Maximize security in front of the vault. We must protect our cheesecake."

"All units sir?"

"Yes Lieutenant."

"What if they still get our cheesecake, sir?"

"That, Lieutenant, is not an option."

"Straight for 20 meters and then take the left fork." Draco relayed the information into the headset. "The next right and you should be three rooms from the vault."

"Is this the closest you can get me?"

"It's the closest vent exit to the vault."

"Roger that."

Draco watched as the flashing red dot moved along the vents. When she reached the opening in the vent, Draco spoke again.

"What do you see?"

"Guards. Lots of them. They're armed too."

"Armed guards? At a restaurant?"

"I think it's icing."

"What?"

"I think they're armed with icing."

"Fall back." Draco said immediately, suddenly becoming dead serious.

"No can do, sir."

"Why not?"

"I've never backed down from anything, sir."

"Damn, Flimmans, quit playing hero."

"Heroine."

"Yes, sorry."

"And I'm not playing, sir."

"You insist on going forward?"

"Yes, sir."

"And nothing I say will change your mind?"

"Yes sir."

"Then may God be with you General Lieutenant Colonel Captain Flimmans."

"Thank you, sir."

Draco watched as the pulsating red dot moved about the screen. Then suddenly, the dot vanished. Draco's grip tightened on the back of the chair until his knuckles turned white.

"Sir?!"

"What is it Lieutenant?"

"There's trouble in the rooms approaching the vault sir."

"Have we identified the trespasser?"

"Reports say it is a little girl around seven years of age."

"Our security was breeched by a seven-year-old?"

"So it would seem sir."

"Have they caught her yet?"

"No sir."

"Why not?"

"According to Rodney, sir, she is, as he puts it, 'thoroughly kicking our ass'."

"Not only has our security been breeched by a seven-year-old, but she's also defeating our troops?!"

"Yes sir."

"Then we have failed."

"But –"

"Did you know, Lieutenant, that I wanted to be a clown when I was little?"

"No sir."

"I wanted to make people laugh."

"I see, sir."

"But dreams don't always come true. Life hits you hard and one has to do what one must do."

"Life is harsh, sir."

"Yes it is Lieutenant." Bob sighed, getting up from his chair. "Let's go, Lieutenant. We must do what must be done."

"Yes sir."

Bob and the Lieutenant left the office and headed toward the vault. Stepping over the bodies, while looking for survivors, they found that no one was dead or mortally wounded. When they arrived at the vault, they saw that one cheesecake was missing and $24.99 stood in its place.

As the blinds lowered, late in the afternoon, the agents squinted, looking into the sun. They watched as a figure appeared in the distance. Then another, and another, and more. The agents made a path to allow the customers to pass. After the last customer had left, they looked back toward the restaurant. Their hopes faded as the minutes ticked away. They turned to leave, one by one. But just as the last agent was turning away, he caught a glimpse of a figure, dragging its left foot, clutching its right arm, emerging from the restaurant, out of the corner of his eye. He alerted the other agents and they all came running back.

"Hand me a walkie-talkie." Flimmans said.

Draco was overwhelmed with grief. He was on the verge of crying. Can you image? Draco Malfoy crying?! He had grown quite fond of General Lieutenant Colonel Captain Flimmans, even though they've only know each other for a short time. You see, Draco didn't really have any friends.

"—KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH— Sir? —KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH—" came a soft voice over one of the walkie-talkies.

"Flimmans?!?!" Draco was exuberant. Almost jumping with joy. "You're OK! You made it! I thought I lost you…"

"—KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH— I don't die easy, kid. —KSSSSSSSSHHHHHH—"

"I'm glad you're alive."

"Permission to return to HQ, sir?"

"Yes ma'am."

The second Flimmans stepped into headquarters, she was pulled into a monstrous hug by Draco Malfoy.

"Here's your cheesecake, sir." She said, holding out the box, when he finally let go of her.

"It's Draco, Flimmans."

"Tina."

"Thanks for the cheesecake and sorry for all the trouble I've put you through."

"You'll get our bill by mail sometime next week."

Draco was standing at the entrance of the headquarters to see them off. It wasn't until he was waving good-bye that Draco realized that he had just made his first friend.

When Hermione returned to her room after dinner, she found a wrapped present on her bed. The tag red:

With all my love, Your Secret Admirer

Inside, she found a cheesecake. And when she fell asleep that night, a soft, warm smile lingered on her lips.

A/N: What you think? Cheesy, eh? Well go make a cake with it. Much love.

P.S. - Sorry about the insanely long wait guys... I had this done sometime in July, but when I submitted it, I got rejected due to some formatting issues, which I'm sitll not sure what excatly was wrong... Anyway, I got frustrated and then college started again and I had like no time, and I still don't, but I figured I'd try again.


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